


It's just me and you

by themysticalsong



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as she loves him, she hates wherever he gets his insane ideas from. Saturday mornings are meant to be spent in bed. She, for one, plans to spend all day in Pajamas, reading or writing, or just sleeping. The week has been horrible- what with all the messed up book packages and last minute rushed-in assignments, and now she just wants to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's just me and you

**Author's Note:**

> This is again set in the Baby Bird verse; before that story begins, actually. Based on a prompt on tumblr. It was so fluffy that I couldn't let it go just like that. But I have no idea how it has come out, so yeah :P

 

 

Alex groans, scooting to the side of the bed closest to the wall, her blanket in tow. "Go away, Matt. Let me sleep."

 

As much as she loves him, she hates wherever he gets his insane ideas from. Saturday mornings are meant to be spent in bed. She, for one, plans to spend all day in Pajamas, reading or writing, or just sleeping. The week has been horrible- what with all the messed up book packages and last minute rushed-in assignments, and now she just wants to sleep.

Horrendously cheerful for such an early hour, Matt tugs at her blanket, almost climbing over her, "Aren't birds supposed to be the ones to get up super early? Get up, baby bird."

 

"Not on Saturdays. Just go away!" she sleepily claws at her blanket, giving up on her struggle, realising Matt is effectively straddling her waist. "I hate you."

 

"Then, you leave me no choice."

 

Her eyes fly open at his words, a surprised shriek escaping her lips as he begins to tickle her. She swats at his hands, hitting him with a pillow, before curling up in the corner, looking at him like a wounded animal from behind her hands.

 

"Aw, c'mon", Matt juts his lower lip out, pouting at her, "It's not fair, you know. I never say anything when you drag me on your treasure hunts-", he resists a smile as she mumbles something similar to 'flea markets, dumbass', continuing with a sniffle, "-You can't do this- _this-_ little thing for me?"

 

She pulls a face, looking at him with narrowed eyes, "Fine! But just because I want you to check out that new flower shop with me later."

 

Matt beams at her with excitement, tapping her nose, "Well, come on, then!"

 

"What, now?"

 

"Well, of course, now! Are you going to wait till the sun comes up? Now!!"

 

\--x--

 

"Shit! It's cold!" Alex turns to leave for her flat, shivering and rubbing her hands over her arms, bouncing from feet to feet. It being early spring, the weather is still a bit cold, and while both have their sweaters on, Alex feels colder than usual, sniffling in the chilly air. Matt, on the other hand, has a big, fuzzy maroon sweater on, perfectly content, as he grins and teases his best friend.

 

Matt laughs as Alex glares at him. Pulling her closer, he blows on his hands, warming them up and rubs them over her arms, turning her back. "See? It's not so bad, now. I could always warm you up."

 

Annoyance written in her expression, Alex looks at him, her eyes narrowing, "You can." It takes him a moment to process the look in her eyes, flailing in surprise as she wriggles and twists, and climbs inside his sweater, her curls sticking out at odd angles because of the static energy. How he manages to steady them both is a mystery to him.

 

He scowls at her, pretending to be miffed, "You could have ruined my sweater, you know."

 

Alex giggles, pressing her nose against his neck, watching in amusement as he yelps, "Please. Three of you could fit in this sweater, and there will still be space for ickle me. Quit whining. It's your punishment for waking me up on such a cold morning."

 

"And the flower market?"

 

She smirks at his expression, resuming her walk, "Your penance."

 

 

 


End file.
